Predawn Perfidy - Containment Protocol-Part 23
Backstabbing! Fiction. 2200 words, 11-minute read.
A rude awakening, and the stench of betrayal.
The rest of the Containment Protocol saga can be found here: https://raytabler.substack.com/s/containment-protocol-serial
Part 1 (the beginning), ... Part 22 (last episode), Part 24
Predawn Perfidy - Containment Protocol-Part 23
By Ray Tabler.
Booker attempted to contact Mulroney by radio, but wasn’t surprised to hear only static. On the off chance that the sergeant received his signal, Booker briefly summarized the events of the afternoon and evening, described some details of their campsite, and the intention to press on come morning. It was probable, tending to certain, that Mulroney received none of the report, but Booker felt better for the effort.
Muñoz’s revelation weighed upon his conscious. By the strict letter of regulations, Muñoz should be placed under guard. But the man was canny enough to realize no one else had heard him tell Booker about his plans. It would be Booker’s word against Muñoz’s,if the matter came to a hearing.
Beyond that, Booker felt honor bound not to betray Muñoz, who had confided in him. Maybe Muñoz was just blowing off steam, and had no real intention of deserting. Legally, it wouldn’t be desertion, either. Not an active member of the military anymore, Muñoz was simply a contractor to the Department of Defense. It was entirely possible that all that would result from Muñoz walking off the job would be a negative performance review, and disciplinary action up to and including termination of employment. Which, ironically, is what Muñoz was aiming for in the first place.
Actually, Booker wasn’t exactly sure where the funding for the project flowed from. For all he knew, Muñoz might be paid from some CIA black budget line item. Maybe the people in charge could justify taking more drastic action against insubordinate employees under the auspices of national security. That thought left a sour taste in his mouth. Especially since the only people Muñoz would tell secrets to were people here in this universe. Who would have no concept of national security or top secrets.
After a few minutes of chasing his own tail around over the matter, fatigue from the long, long day, and the absurdity of the situation overcame Booker. He laid down and pulled his sleeping bag over him, not zipping it up because of the near tropical weather. Swahldets crooned softly. Men snored. Night creatures below on the forest floor scampered about, hunting each other or being hunted.
Despite exhaustion, sleep eluded Booker for a time. As well as the gordian knot of Muñoz’s potential desertion, were the mysteries which seemed to pop up every few hours here abouts. Then, Nohfa and Zunta began to make love on the far side of the campfire. They weren’t being noisy, but the sounds were unmistakable. Booker lay, staring up into the tree tops, trying to ignore them.
Eventually, the couple finished and fell asleep. Booker fell into a restless, doze, tossing and turning. At some point, his wife knelt beside him, and stroked his face gently. She smiled, wearing a pale, green sundress she knew he liked. It was a dream, Booker realized distantly, the best dream he’d had in some time.
“What’s troubling you, honey?’ She whispered.
Booker held her hand, and sighed. “I’ve been unfaithful to you.”
“No. It wasn’t your fault. You’ve been true to me in your heart.” A sad shadow fell over her eyes. “At least you have, so far.”
Booker gasped at her words.
She opened her mouth, and emitted an animal howl.
Booker tumbled awake, struggling with his sleeping bag. “What the hell!”
The howl echoed again, joined by a second blood-curdling roar. Men bellowed. The rapid cracks of firearms on full auto poured a cold thrill down Booker’s spine. There was a fight going on. He kicked the last of his sleeping bag away from his legs, snatched up his carbine, and ran for the noise in his sock feet.
A day break glow painted the sky above the gloom of the trees. The platform was still cloaked in shadow, but there was enough light to see by. And a savage sight it was. A pair of velociraptors stalked forward at the end of the platform nearest the bridge to the cliff, ferocious jaws agape and dreadful claws tapping on the bare wood. Their tails whipped back and forth as the heads snarled and snapped.
An incongruous mix of soldiers and cavemen faced the two dinos, holding the beast at bay. Zunta and his companions poked their lances at the predators, shouting at the raptors and to each other. The soldiers fired at the two attackers, a step back from the pikemen. The bullets ricocheted off the dinos’ skulls or penetrated their thick skin, but didn’t seem to be having much effect. Nohfa drew her horn bow and loosed one arrow after another at the threats. Several protruded from each beast.
“Olmer!” Booker called. “Can you hit ‘em with a grenade?”
“The dammed things re too close! The shrapnel’d hit Zunta and his boys.”
“Shit!” Booker growled in frustration.
At that moment, one of the raptors crouched down and sprang completely over the line of pikemen. It landed right in front of Nohfa, and lunged at her, knocking the woman to the decking. Nohfa screamed, and shoved her bow into the into the beat’s snapping jaws, crossways in a two-handed grip. The massive jaws clamped on the bow, grinding. The bow bent as the weight of the dino, plowing Nohfa back across the wood and fallen pine needles.
Before he even knew what he was doing, Booker dropped to one knee and raised his carbine. Calmly as if on the firing range, he lined up the sights, and caressed the trigger. A three-round burst of erupted from the rifle’s muzzle, and drilled directly into the velociraptor’s right eye.
Perhaps nothing vital was hit, but the animal’s eye popped like a squeezed grape. Hot blood and vitreous fluid sprayed over Nohfa. The pain of the ruined eyeball must’ve been intense. The raptor let go of the bow and shrieked. It hopped about shaking it head and lashing its tail. Fortunately, Nohfa stayed low. The tail whipped by like a fleshy scythe, cutting the air with a vwoop sound. Booker sprayed more bullets at the thing, hoping to hit something, anything important while it was preoccupied.
The wounded velociraptor bellowed and ran blindly, clawing at the pain of its pulped eyeball. A few steps carried the animal to the edge of the platform, and over. Feeling the sick, stomach-turning sensation of falling, the stricken beast wailed piteously as it plummeted. That distress call distracted the other raptor for a critical instant. Working with an almost clairvoyant synchronicity, Zunta, Zoop, and Lumfa simultaneously charged the remaining velociraptor, and shoved their lance heads into the thing. Then, they all heaved with a mighty groan, driving the beast sideways off balance. Before the raptor could regain its feet, the three tribesmen pushed it bodily off the platform. It keened just like its twin all the way down. Booker distinctly heard the impact on the forest floor hundreds of feet below, a faint, wet thud.
There was an abrupt, thunderous silence after the savage tumult. Men panted from the effort and the sudden end to the struggle. Heart rates reluctantly slackened. Adrenaline slowly, seeped away from everyone’s systems. Booker exhaled a shuddering breath, and swallowed in a bone-dry throat.
Pinsky shuffled over to the edge of the platform where the first velociraptor had tumbled, the one with the ruined eye. Spent brass casing rolled and tinkled around his feet. He peered cautiously over the edge. “Sunnuvabitch!” He wheezed.
Zunta dropped his lance and sprinted over to where Nohfa lay, still clutching her dino-chewed bow. He snatched her up and wrapped his brawny arms about his mate, sobbing with relief. Nohfa responded, burying her face into his neck. But her eyes locked with Booker’s, an unreadable emotion roiling within.
“What the hell happened?” Olmer demanded, eyes darting about, scanning for more threats.
An unsettling thought lanced through Booker’s mind. “Where’s Muñoz?” The question dripped with accusation.
“I’m right here.” Muñoz responded, clearly having caught the tone of Booker’s remark,
Booker spun. Muñoz stood a few yards away, supporting Krilno. The tribesman leaned on Muñoz, a white field dressing from a med kit wrapped around his head. Bright red blood seeped out through the gauze.
“I found Krilno. He had the last watch of the night. Somebody bonked him on the head with something hard and heavy. Left him lying there. I’d just found him and was applying first aid when all of the excitement started.” Muñoz faced booker. “Where else would I be?”
Booker didn’t hold the gaze. “Just taking inventory.” He scanned the rest of the group. “Where’s Bunzo?”
“Bunzo.” Zunta growled. The hulking tribesman released his mate, and headed for the bridge. Zoop and Lumfa followed, scooping their lances up from the decking as they went.
Muñoz eased Krilno down to a sitting position on the wood of the platform. He spoke in the local language to the wounded man. Krilno laughed, then moaned and reached a hand to his head.
“I told him he’s lucky his skull’s so thick.” Muñoz explained. “I think he’ll be okay. But he’s gonna have a whale of a headache.”
DeWiess chuckled at the joke.
“So, the witch doctor’s the only one missing.” Booker pointed out.
“Maybe those dinos already ate him.” Pinsky speculated.
Muñoz craned his neck at where the Swahldets were picketed. “Looks they ate his swahldet too, then. Because that’s missing too. And his saddle.”
“I’m starting to have some unkind thoughts about our friendly neighborhood witch doctor.” Booker kicked at a stray spent brass casing.
Zunta and Lumfa returned from the bridge. Zunta shouted, picked up a stray fallen pine branch and struck one of the monstrous trunks repeatedly. The branch shattered, fragments scattering in all directions. After a minute venting his rage, Zunta spoke in a disgusted tone to Nohfa. He all but spat the words.
Muñoz translated. “The counterweights on the draw bridge have been cut free. They fell to the forest floor. The bridge is down, permanently.”
“Now we know how those raptors got here.” Booker said.
Zunta continued.
Muñoz blinked in shock. “He says that the guts and organs from the famp we ate for dinner last night are piled at this end of the bridge, after they were dragged along the span to leave a blood trail.”
“Guess there’s not much doubt as to Bunzo’s intentions anymore. “Booker shook his head.
“Zoop’s following Bunzo’s trail for a ways to see where he’s headed.” Muñoz finished.
Zoop trotted up just then, and spoke to Zunta, panting from running.
“He says Bunzo’s bound back for Bedrock by the long route.”
Booker looked thoughtful. “The long route? Can’t we cut him off then?”
Zunta must’ve read Booker’s mind. He spoke.
“He says that swahldet climb up a lot better than they climb down. Especially on a steep path. Bunzo will beat us back to Bedrock, with the head start he has. No matter which path we take.”
Zunta, Lumfa, Nohfa, and Zoop argued in low voices. Krilno sat nearby, head in his hands, listening but not contributing to the discussion.
“They’re trying to figure out what to do.” Muñoz confided to the soldiers. “Bunzo’s actions are shocking. He knows better than anyone that the tribe doesn’t know how to fix the drawbridge. This spot’s ruined as a refuge now.”
“Maybe he plans on blaming it all on us.” Booker said. “There’s no telling how many of us would’ve been killed if those dinos had come along a little earlier.”
“Maybe.” Muñoz conceded.
Zunta raised his voice with an air of command. He barked a series of sentences, accompanied with emphatic pointing.
“Zunta says we’re going on to the mountain of the gods. Bunzo will just have to wait a few days to have his guts ripped out.”
Zunta stalked off, rage crackling from every fiber of his being. Nohfa glanced back at the soldiers then followed, doubt evident in her face.
“Is he really gonna rip that dude’s guts out?” Pinsky whispered.
Coffman shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe that’s SOP around here. They tried to light your ass up like a birthday candle. And all you did was poke your nose into the wrong hut.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot”
“How could you forget that?”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t forget it. It just slipped my mind in all the excitement.”
“You heard the man.” Booker ordered. “Everybody saddle up. “We’re leaving.”
The soldiers glanced at each other, then dispersed to get ready for travel. Muñoz tarried behind.
“You sure that’s wise?” Muñoz asked. “Bunzo doesn’t strike me as the type to do something like this on impulse. He might have some plan.”
“You could be right. But I can see Zunta’s dilemma. He doesn’t have any good options, just bad ones and worse ones. With no way to tell which is which until it’s too late.” Booker shrugged. “What if there’s an ambush waiting for us to come busting ass on Bunzo’s trail?”
Muñoz opened his mouth, then closed it, a pensive look on his face. “Didn’t think about that.”
Booker held Muñoz’s eyes. “And what were you doing up so early, anyway?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“If I look, will I find your swahldet already saddled?”
Muñoz’s face hardened. “I told you I’d stick around until the platoon’s about to transit the gate.”
“I’ll hold you to that.’
Booker walked away.
END.
The rest of the Containment Protocol saga can be found here: https://raytabler.substack.com/s/containment-protocol-serial
Part 1 (the beginning), ... Part 22 (last episode), Part 24 - Oasis
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